


Harvest Moon

by Sholio



Category: White Collar
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 03:15:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8561476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/pseuds/Sholio
Summary: Alex has an annual ritual.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sapphire2309](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphire2309/gifts).



> For the Collarcorner Fall Fest, Sapphire2309 asked if we could see a little more of Alex's private, softer side.

When the first moonlight touched the window ledge of her Paris apartment, Alex left by the window, letting herself quietly out onto the rooftops.

She wore her sneaking-around clothes, a black turtleneck and stretchy jeans. But this night, for a change, the black knapsack snugged tight against her back wasn't empty in preparation for the night's work. This time she had a few things in it.

Under the clear sky and the Parisian moon, she danced lightly from roof to roof, from apartment block to apartment block, through rooftop gardens and terraces, across chimney pots and ledges, until she dropped lightly into the courtyard of a former rooftop terrace that had the right feeling. Some renovation over the last decade had walled off this part of it, and she doubted if anyone even knew it was here anymore. There was no way to get to it except via the way she'd come in.

In this hidden and secret place, Alex sat on the low wall above a twelve-storey drop to the street, and unslung her knapsack. The late-summer night was cool and she was glad for the warmth of her sweater as she laid out her little midnight snack of cheese and bread and pastries. She poured herself a glass of wine, the dark liquid glinting with silver highlights under the moon's bright radiance.

The first time she'd done something like this, it had been incidental. She'd been in the habit of picnicking on the roof in those days anyway, and moonlit nights were the best for it. And then somehow, along the way, it had become a ritual. 

These days she didn't get up to the rooftops nearly as much as she used to. Maybe she was getting too old for this business. But she always came up for a midnight picnic under the first full moon of autumn, the one that used to be called the harvest moon. In the old days, people used to have harvest celebrations under this moon. 

And this late-night picnic was her own little ceremony, a cat burglar's rite in the hopes of a good reaping from the sleek and wealthy of the world in the coming year.

She'd done this before she met Neal and after him, but she found herself thinking of him tonight. He had chosen a different life, and those times were behind her now. Still, she raised her glass to the moon, and drank her first sip of the fine red wine in his memory. Wherever he was, she hoped he was as satisfied in his life as she was in hers, alone and contented as a cat in the brilliant white light of the autumn moon.


End file.
